"Claire..." A familiar voice echoed, soft and featherlight.
She jolted upright with a tangled yelp, limbs flailing as the sheets betrayed her, dragging her into a dramatic sideways roll. For one horrifying second, she teetered at the edge of the top bunk like a poorly balanced rice cracker—then thudded back into the mattress with a muffled groan.
Eyes wide, heart hammering, she blinked through the haze of early dawn. Her bangs stuck in odd directions. One sock was still on. Her diary had slipped off her chest and lay face-down on the floor, looking just as offended as she felt.
Still half-asleep, Claire mumbled something indistinct and probably not in any real language as she began untangling her limbs, the sheets, and whatever dignity she had left.
She sat up, dazed, rubbing the sleep from her face with both hands. The room was dim and quiet. The faintest bluish light seeped through the drawn curtains, casting soft shadows across the floor. Her head lolled toward the other bunk.
Empty.
She blinked again. Then squinted.
Still empty.
Her brows furrowed, a little fog lifting from her brain. She clumsily scrambled down the ladder, nearly missing a step in her sock and catching herself with a squeak. Claire shuffled across the floor, pausing at the edge of Kazuki's bed.
Covers untouched. No indent on the pillow. Just faint traces of dust near the corner.
That's when she noticed it—leading faintly from the door toward the balcony, like smudged stardust along the wooden floor.
Footprints.
Mostly wiped away, but… not quite.
Her head tilted, nose scrunching slightly. For a brief moment, her sleep-muddled brain considered maybe they're ghost footprints, and she shivered, shaking the thought out like a wet dog.
Instead of checking the balcony immediately, she padded toward the dorm bathroom first. Her reflection in the mirror nearly startled her a second time.
"...I look like a tragic noodle," she muttered to no one.
She washed her face with cold water, puffing out her cheeks and exhaling hard. Droplets clung to her chin as she fumbled for a towel, patting her cheeks dry. She tried to tame her hair with a comb, but it only gave her static and rebellion in return. Without Rose's expert fingers and a thousand sparkly hair clips, Claire was just… doomed.
"Close enough," she whispered, accepting defeat with a small shrug.
Back in the room, she tiptoed across the floor, hesitating before the glass door. Her fingers brushed the handle. She opened it.
A rush of air greeted her—cool, still damp with dew, tinged faintly with grass and stone. Claire closed her eyes.
It smelled like quiet mornings. Like early hours no one else was awake for. Like something about to begin.
The breeze stirred her hair gently.
But then… her eyes opened.
A memory surfaced—brief, uncertain.
A shadow moving past. A familiar figure, always just ahead. That unreadable back turned toward her again.
Her heart gave a small, involuntary tug.
She stepped back inside.
Something about the footprints lingered.
But she said nothing.
Arriving at the elevator, Claire shuffled from foot to foot, eyes darting to the glowing numbers above the doors. Her fingers twisted the hem of her uniform like it was the only thing anchoring her to the floor. When the doors finally pinged open to reveal an empty car, she exhaled too loudly, then flinched at the sound of her own relief.
"Thank the stars…" she muttered, stepping in—and immediately tripping on the threshold. She caught herself with a squeaky "eep!" and scrambled upright, cheeks burning as her reflection in the mirrored walls stared back at her with the same horror.
"Nope, no thanks," she mumbled, ducking her head and sidestepping into the corner like the glass could swallow her whole. She stayed there for the whole ride down, eyes fixed somewhere in the middle distance, pretending she didn't exist.
The cafeteria wasn't packed, but the teachers scattered around still made her freeze in the doorway. She peeked in first, just her eyes visible past the frame. When no one turned her way, she tiptoed inside like she was breaking into a sacred temple.
The smell of fresh food hit her like a spell. Her stomach gurgled loudly in betrayal. She gasped, slapping both hands over her middle.
"No, no—shhh! Not now!" she whispered furiously at her belly, glancing around as if someone might write her up for indecent digestion.
Reaching the counter took about three eternities. The woman behind it—a warm, middle-aged lady with a smile like hot tea—looked up as Claire approached.
"Good morning! I bet you're here for breakfast, huh?"
Claire froze mid-step. One foot hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment too long before she lowered it like defusing a mine.
"U-um, y-yeah! I mean—yes. I am. That's me. Breakfast girl." Her voice came out in a breathy whisper, her fingers frantically braiding themselves.
"Well then!" the woman beamed. "Let's get you started."
Claire nodded too fast and too many times. As the woman turned to prepare the tray, Claire leaned forward a bit to peek—then instantly straightened like she'd been caught stealing. She folded her hands behind her back and pretended to admire the ceiling.
When the tray was passed to her, her eyes lit up—then immediately dimmed with panic as she fumbled for her wallet. Her fingers missed the zipper once, twice.
"I—I think I have change—um—somewhere—"
"Oh no, sweetie, it's free," the woman said gently. "You don't have to pay."
Claire blinked. "...Oh. R-really?" Her voice cracked like an old radio.
"Yep. Meals are included here. Pretty sure they mentioned that during orientation," the woman chuckled.
Claire bowed like a panicked teapot tipping over.
"Right! Of course they did. Heh… I was… probably hiding behind someone," she muttered.
"No worries, dear. Not everyone reads the fine print. Enjoy!"
"T-thank you!" Claire bowed again—too hard. She nearly overbalanced and did a little two-step to avoid colliding with the counter. "Wah—!"
With her tray clutched tightly, she turned, adjusted, then adjusted again, navigating through empty tables like they were a minefield. She glanced back once to make sure the food hadn't leapt off the tray somehow.
Behind the counter, the woman watched her with a quiet smile, shaking her head fondly.
"She's gonna be just fine," she murmured.
Claire stepped outside, arms wrapped loosely around her breakfast tray, the dorm door clicking shut behind her. The early morning breeze slipped past, cool and crisp, tousling her unevenly brushed hair. She gave it a half-hearted pat, as if that would tame the frizz without Rose's help.
She shuffled across the stone pathway, slippers tapping lightly with each uncertain step until she found a quiet bench nestled under a half-bare tree. Lowering herself onto it, she nearly misjudged the edge, letting out a faint "mhh!" as she caught herself at the last second.
Autumn leaves skittered past her shoes. She sat still for a moment, blinking slowly, then picked up a piece of tamagoyaki. It nearly slipped between her fingers, but she rescued it in time and took a bite. A quiet, puffed-cheek hum escaped her as the sweet egg melted on her tongue.
Campus life was still asleep. The sky was pale gold, and the sun hadn't fully risen yet, just brushing the tops of trees. Claire let her gaze wander across the trimmed hedges and winding paths, the quiet settling into her shoulders like a blanket.
A flicker.
She blinked again. The wind shifted.
It was faint—like light leaking into a dream. A small round table. Toy teacups clinking. Claire's eyes softened. She saw Rose. A younger version of herself. A familiar hand brushing her hair. Her mother's smile, quiet and tired and kind. It all blurred at the edges, fragile as mist.
Static tugged at the edges of her mind.
When her eyes opened, her breakfast was gone.
She looked down at her tray, then at her hands, confused.
A tear slid from her left eye before she realized anything was wrong. It landed on her skin with a soft warmth. She stared at it—still, uncertain—as though it had arrived from someone else's sadness.
She wasn't sure what she felt. A tight, invisible pull at her chest. Not heavy, but sharp. Like something small had gone missing a long time ago.
Her lips parted, but no sound came. She wiped the tear away slowly with the back of her hand. Then exhaled, almost in defeat.
And like that—like fog lifting from a mirror—she moved on.
"Oh yeah!" she squeaked, the sound bursting out of her like a kettle whistle.
Her scramble for the phone was pure chaos — first yanking out a balled-up handkerchief, then nearly flinging the device from her lap as it slipped through her fingers. She caught it just in time, clutching it like treasure, already typing with wild energy.
hey, how are you doing?
Hello. I'm doing quite well.
The reply popped up almost instantly — clean, formal, painfully proper. As always.
Claire leaned forward too fast, nearly smacking her forehead on the table's edge. She caught herself, cheeks already warming, and then broke into a shy smile at the sight of her nickname.
PB.
She wiggled in place like an overexcited puppy, hugging herself briefly, cheeks turning rosy.
have u eaten yet? btw i just ate mine lol
She hugged the phone to her chest, legs swinging under the bench with quiet anticipation.
A few seconds later:
Not yet. I will when convenient.
Claire gasped.
eep!!
dont skip ur meals or you'll become unhealthy, capisce??
Her thumbs fumbled across the screen, tripping over her own rush. She frowned in concentration, lip caught between her teeth.
I'll eat. Soon.
She puffed her cheeks in a long sigh, clearly unconvinced — but then there it was again.
PB.
Her knees curled in, and a quiet "hehe" slipped out as she hugged her phone tighter.
well it's been complicated...
Her fingers hovered. The energy stilled. Her shoulders drooped, curling slightly inward.
How so?
She squirmed. Hands flapped briefly in the air before she hunched back down over the screen.
eh, s-some bad things happened but some good too...
but hey! i made some friends tho...!!!
The last word came with a bounce that nearly launched her phone again. She caught it midair with a soft "wah!" then giggled under her breath.
That's good...
Plain. Minimal. But she clutched the phone like it had whispered something only for her.
Her legs swung again. Small, happy kicks brushing the air.
But then—
No typing bubble.
No new message.
Claire froze mid-swing.
She stared.
Her arms curled in. Her grip on the phone tightened.
Did she say too much?
Was it weird?
Her breath caught.
Anyway, I have things to do. You should attend your class soon — don't want to be late.
She jolted upright, thumbs moving fast.
a-alright, do your best in yours!!
The message sent. She hugged herself almost immediately, chewing her cheek in second-guessing dread.
Then — the green dot vanished.
Claire's chest deflated. The tiniest whimper left her lips.
She tried to put her phone away.
Dropped it once. Then again.
Finally got it into her pocket on the third try.
Her fingers twisted together in her lap. Her body rocked forward and back, quiet and unsure.
C1.
Childhood friend. Same weird old signature. Same too-formal way of typing.
But...
He was here.
Still here.
The thought wrapped around her like a shaky hug.
A minute passed.
Then—
"Eep! I'm gonna be late!"
She sprang up with a squeak, knee banging the table. Her limbs scrambled into action as she grabbed her tray, nearly sloshing her drink, steadying it just in time.
She half-jogged back toward the cafeteria — a clumsy ballet of near-disasters, soft apologies, and determined wobble-walking.
Later, when she met up with Rose, Claire was visibly buzzing with nervous energy. Her grip on her weapon was loose and twitchy—she nearly dropped it twice just walking.
Then the stadium came into view.
Claire stopped dead in her tracks.
"Waaah—!"
The noise slipped out before she could stop it, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Her hand shot out and latched onto Rose's sleeve without a second thought.
Rose blinked, then let out a low whistle.
"…Okay, that's… yeah, alright. That's nuts."
The stadium towered in front of them, all glass panels and reinforced metal, sharp lines gleaming under the sun. Massive doors hummed with mechanical weight as they opened for incoming students. The inner structure stretched high above, supported by angled beams and layered balconies. Training zones buzzed with energy. Observation decks sparkled. The whole place felt like it belonged to something far more serious than a class schedule.
Claire's mouth worked soundlessly. "I-it's so…" she half-said, half-breathed. Her hand let go of Rose's sleeve just long enough to realize she was still clinging, then she let out a quiet "Eep!" and awkwardly stepped away.
And then immediately stumbled back into Rose again when her knees wobbled.
"You okay?" Rose asked, still grinning as she glanced down at her. "Or are you gonna spontaneously combust from sensory overload?"
Claire didn't answer—she spun slowly on the spot, trying to take it all in. Every monitor, every drone, every strange machine lining the walls made her head tilt.
"W-what do you think that thing does?" she whispered, pointing cautiously at a suspended rig near the ceiling. "Or that one? Or—nope, never mind, I don't wanna know, I already feel like I'm trespassing."
Rose laughed under her breath. "This school's seriously flexing. And we just got here."
Her voice had that unmistakable brightness she got when her competitive side kicked in.
Claire clutched her elbows and bobbed her head in agreement, her long yellow hair swishing with the motion. Her eyes lingered on the banners hanging above—the school's crest, the rankings, the rotating announcements flickering across digital displays.
The lights. The uniforms. The murmur of rising voices from students already warming up across the field.
It reminded her of a festival back home. That same overwhelming sense of movement.
Of something about to begin.
She hugged herself instinctively.
"This is the class we're supposed to attend?" she asked, voice lighter than usual, like saying it too loud might cause a security alarm to go off.
She took a cautious step forward.
Then one more.
Then promptly half-turned and scurried back behind Rose, her eyes darting nervously across the floor like a cornered squirrel.
That's when she saw him.
Kazuki.
He was at the far end of the ring, hands in his pockets, gaze wandering — not fixed on anything in particular. Not looming or posturing or even trying to look cool.
Just there. Like he belonged, like he didn't need to do anything more than show up.
And for some reason… that was worse.
Claire locked up.
"Ah—!"
It slipped out sharper than she meant. She ducked behind Rose in the least subtle way possible, clutching the back of her jacket like she'd just seen something way above her emotional pay grade.
Rose blinked. "Huh. Weird noise. You good?"
"Wh-what noise?" Claire's voice cracked like glass under a boot.
Rose glanced over her shoulder. "The one you made when your soul tried to exit stage left."
Claire's eyes glued themselves to the floor. "That—uh. That was nothing. Just remembered something."
Rose tilted her head. "Like what?"
Claire's brain short-circuited. "U-uh. Last night. My phone buzzed. A thing. A report."
Rose raised a brow, utterly astonished as she gave her a deadpan. "…The news? Seriously? You mean the news you immediately forgot about until now?" she made a deadpan
"Yep. Very serious. Terrifying. Stuff." Her voice dropped to a whisper as she practically melted into her scarf.
Rose gave her a longer look this time—but didn't dig. Just smiled and bumped her shoulder lightly.
"You're like three mental tabs away from crashing," Rose muttered with a grin. "Try not to faint before the main event."
Claire gave a sheepish thumbs-up from behind her hair. "N-no promises."
Then Rose exploded into motion—arms thrown wide like she was greeting an audience.
"Geez, you're so spaced out lately. Feels like you're living in limbo," Rose said, her pout comically over the top. "C'mon—focus!"
"Focus on what?" Claire asked, still blinking herself back to reality.
"The stadium! Look at it—it's huge!" Rose bounced on her heels, her voice carrying so much it echoed back, making Claire flinch like she'd almost tripped.
Claire squeaked again, then let out a tiny musical laugh—so quiet she looked surprised it escaped at all. Both hands flew up to her mouth.
She wiggled in place, torn between Rose's giddy energy and her own flustered nerves.
"R-Rose..." she mumbled, cheeks pink and voice soft with fondness.
Rose spun around the stadium like a firecracker, her joy practically bouncing off the walls.
"Isn't this place amazing, Claire?" she beamed, though her eyes kept flicking back to check on her. The warmth behind her smile made it clear: she was still watching out for her.
A familiar voice slid into the air.
"Yo. You're in a suspiciously good mood today."
"Eep!" Claire jumped, nearly tripping over herself. She turned quickly to see Liene approaching with her usual feline ease, Takumi a step behind with his hands in his pockets.
"O-oh! H-hi…" Claire stammered. Her fingers instinctively gripped the hem of her uniform. Her gaze did a frantic hop between the two before locking somewhere on the ground.
Liene gave a slow blink and grinned. "Got it in one, yellow~" She winked, casual and smooth. "Still a little surprised he hasn't skinned me alive yet."
"Keep talkin', princess," Takumi said lazily, eyes half-lidded. "Let's test the odds."
Claire let out a strangled little laugh—then instantly covered her mouth like she'd committed a felony.
Rose practically teleported beside Claire, hands on her knees, stage-whispering loud enough to wake the dead.
"Who is she?"
"R-remember S-Starfield?" Claire mumbled, eyes darting sideways. "W-we were attacked by that b-bird thing, and… she, Takumi, and K-Kazuki were with me..."
At the mention of Kazuki, she shrank a little. Her cheeks turned a shade deeper.
"Ohhhh!" Rose gasped. A beat later she zipped over to Liene, seizing her hand with both of hers like she was greeting a celebrity.
"NICE! TO! MEET! YOU! I'M ROSE!!!"
Liene blinked. Twice.
"My, my... someone runs on rocket fuel." She smiled, though a trace of shock flickered through.
Takumi watched the whole thing with a half-grin. "Five minutes," he muttered. "Max."
Claire stood in the middle, nerves clearly short-circuiting as she shifted between them. She wrung her hands again... then, suddenly:
"U-um... hey."
Claire glanced up at Liene—just for a second—then quickly dropped her gaze to the ground, her fingers fumbling with the edge of her sleeve. She gave a small, hesitant wave.
"I... I-I never actually asked your name... is that weird? Wait—sorry, you don't have to—uh, it's fine if—"
That got a long pause.
Even Takumi blinked.
Then, with an understanding nod, Takumi stepped in.
"Liene," he said, jerking his thumb in her direction. "Total nuisance. Weirdly growing on me."
Liene shot him a sideways look, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Aww. I knew you liked me."
"Didn't say like," he muttered.
Liene turned back, tone soft again. "It's actually Eliene… but I go by Liene."
"AWWW! I'M ROSE BY THE WAY!" Rose blurted, immediately grabbing her shoulders and giving her a shake.
Liene stiffened mid-sentence. "Uh—yeah, y-you said that alreadyyy...!"
Claire gave a wobbly little nod, mouthing the name to herself like a secret. "Liene…"
She squeaked as Takumi plopped down beside her, scooting an inch away before catching herself. Her hands fumbled into each other, fingers twisting like they were trying to vanish.
"Geez, what a pain…" Takumi sighed, dragging a hand through his hair like the weight of the world had just dropped into his lap. "Didn't think those two would hit it off that fast. Has Rose always been like that?"
"U-um… kinda?" Claire's voice fluttered, soft and unsure as her hands folded tight in her lap. "B-but you'd be surprised if you knew what she was like… before." Her eyes flicked up through her bangs, then darted away again.
Takumi glanced back at the chaos. "Hard to picture. Your friend makes our local menace look zen."
Claire stifled a squeaky laugh behind her hands, shoulders bouncing. She shifted in place, half trying to shrink, half enjoying the moment.
"AND THEN CLAIRE AND I—" Rose's voice rang out, full volume, while Liene's composure continued to chip.
"I think we've created a monster," Takumi muttered, watching with a blank stare.
Claire dissolved into giggles again, her ears pink as she tugged nervously at her sleeve.
"I-it's not so bad," she said with a smile tugging at her lips. "Rose is just… she's always been like this. Maybe not this bouncy, but…"
She trailed off, a soft fondness in her eyes.
Across the way, Rose was still gripping Liene's hand, vibrating with energy. "We're gonna train and study and hang out and maybe—!"
"Okay, wow," Liene managed, her voice tight but still carrying a faint calmness. "Did you wake with the sunrise and decide to race it?"
The moment Rose let go, Liene took two steps back and dramatically fanned herself. "And now the floor's upside-down." She twirled, let herself flop down cross-legged with practiced grace, a calm little smirk ghosting across her lips.
The chattering crowd fell silent, all eyes drifting to the center of the arena.
A middle-aged man strode in like he owned the place, his presence commanding without a word. Claire instinctively stepped back—straight into Takumi, who caught her by the shoulders with an eye-roll and a reluctant half-smile.
The man was impossible to miss: tall, broad-shouldered, wild dark brown hair spilling past a thick beard. His grey suit, trimmed in silver, strained slightly across his frame, and the battle axe slung across his back left no doubt he'd used it. Each step of his olive-green boots echoed in the stadium; his leather gloves creaked as he folded his arms.
"Someone's really trying to win 'Most Intimidating Entrance,'" Takumi muttered.
"Shhh!" Claire hissed, eyes wide.
Rose, meanwhile, bounced on her toes with barely-contained excitement, letting out a delighted squeal that made Claire flinch. Even Liene, still sprawled with dramatic flair across the floor, propped herself up just enough to get a look—somehow still managing to look like she meant to fall in the first place.
A low chuckle rumbled through the space.
"Ah—sorry," the man said, voice deep but disarmingly warm. "I'm sure you're all dying to know who I am…"
He let the pause hang a beat too long before breaking into a full laugh.
"Name's Darui," he said, grinning. "I'll be teaching your combat class."
The arena went still.
Claire chewed her lip. Rose practically vibrated with joy. Takumi arched an eyebrow, and Liene finally rose with smooth elegance, dusting herself off as if she'd never been floored in the first place.
"Right then," Darui's gravelly voice cut through the silence. "Let's get started with today's lesson." His eyes swept across the students. "First things first—find your roommates and pair up..."
Claire felt the blood drain from her face. Her stomach twisted.
"My... roommate?" she squeaked. Her voice barely made it out.
Students around her were already pairing off, laughing and chatting like they'd known each other for years. Claire's gaze darted around the arena, hands twisting the hem of her shirt.
"This can't be happening," she whispered, shrinking into herself. Heat rushed to her face as her eyes flicked toward Kazuki—still off to the side, calm and unreadable. That made it worse. I haven't even said hi to him yet! she groaned inwardly, burying her face in her hands.
But her panic was quickly overshadowed by a much louder outburst nearby.
"What do you mean roommates?!" Rose wailed, flinging her arms up. A gust of cold wind surged around her, making a few nearby students yelp. "I don't even have one!"
Across the room, Takumi and Liene exchanged a glance. Her eyes gleamed. His shoulders dropped.
Liene drifted closer, tapping him gently on the nose with a perfectly manicured finger. "Looks like you're stuck with little old me, partner."
"Joy," Takumi muttered, pulling back just enough to dodge the touch. "Let's try not to die."
"Oh, such faith in me," Liene replied sweetly, clearly amused. "This'll be fun."
Claire startled at Rose's frustrated cry, nearly knocking over her water bottle as her friend bolted down the steps. As panic rippled through the class, Claire's own anxiety surged. She slumped forward with a groan, burying her face in her arms, glasses slipping askew.
"Oh n-no no no, darn!" she mumbled, voice high and squeaky. "I-I can't team up with him!"
"My, my… someone's in quite the state," Liene observed, tone cool and amused.
"Ya think?!" Claire's head shot up too fast, and she clutched her desk for balance. Her voice cracked louder than she meant. "Glad you noticed!"
Liene's eyes drifted toward Kazuki, calm and detached amidst the chaos. Claire followed her gaze—then instantly looked away, heart doing flips as she fidgeted with her pencil.
"What's so wrong with him?" Liene said airily. "Sure, he's got enough power to level a mountain—too powerful, if you ask me…" She twirled her fingers lazily. "But doesn't that just make things more... interesting?"
"Y-you're missing something super important!" Claire squeaked, arms crossing tight over her chest.
"Oh?" Liene leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Could it be our little Claire is too shy?"
"N-no! Well... maybe… I mean—" Claire's words tangled together as her voice shrank and her face turned the same color as her crimson uniform. "That's not the whole point…"
Her volume, which had steadily risen with each outburst, suddenly dropped as embarrassment crashed over her like a wave.
"Then what is it?" Liene tilted her head, eyes glinting with mischief.
Claire stiffened. Her mind blanked, her mouth opened—then snapped shut. But the pressure built too fast, and before she could stop herself, she shot up from her seat, flailing slightly.
"I-I can't even look at him without forgetting how to breathe, let alone team up, okay?! Capisce?!" she blurted, her voice cracking halfway through. She dropped back into her seat with a dramatic puff of air, hands clamped over her face.
Liene's soft chuckle only deepened the red blooming across Claire's cheeks. She curled tighter, glasses slipping as she peeked out from between her fingers. Liene reached over and gave her a theatrical pat on the head.
"There, there, sweetie. It won't be that bad…" she crooned with exaggerated sympathy. "Unless, of course, he decides you're not worth his time."
"Would you knock it off with the torment routine?" Takumi cut in with a sharp look, grabbing Liene's hand mid-pat. "Not everyone's built with your psychological armor."
"But teasing is part of my charm," Liene replied smoothly with a delicate shrug. "It's who I am."
"You mean it's a bad habit," Takumi muttered.
"Oh, honey, you make everything sound so dull." She tapped his forehead. "Besides, friends are supposed to tease each other."
"Victims, you mean," he shot back, brushing her hand away.
Liene's eyes gleamed at the comeback, her smile sharpening as she leaned her cheek into her hand. "My, my… is that any way to treat your partner?"
"Like we had a choice…" Takumi muttered, casting a glance toward Kazuki with a slight scowl. "Though seriously, what's his deal?"
"Who can say?" Liene mused, letting her gaze linger briefly on Kazuki before sliding back to Claire with amusement. "Though I have a few guesses~"
"Could you be any more cliché?" Takumi groaned.
"Just can't help myself!" Liene chimed, utterly unbothered.
Rose stumbled back up to the group, then collapsed dramatically to her knees like a puppet with its strings cut. She slumped forward with a loud sigh, gripping her legs as if they were the only thing holding her together.
"How'd it go?" Takumi asked, deadpan, one brow arched.
"Absolutely terrible! Completely, utterly terrible!" Rose wailed, flinging her arms in the air between gasps.
"Whoa. Okay. Dial it down," Takumi muttered, hands raised like she was about to explode.
"This is me dialed down!" she shot back, breath ragged.
"Just... tell us what happened," he sighed, defeated.
"What do you think happened?!" she groaned, flopping onto her side like a dying fish.
Liene leaned slightly toward Claire, voice barely above a whisper. "She's... intense," she said with a wry smile and a faux shiver, recalling how Rose had practically bounced her off the walls earlier. But Claire didn't respond—too caught in her anxious spiral to notice.
A sharp clap rang out across the arena, followed by a sudden gust of wind that swept over the students like a wave. It snapped Claire from her haze, cut off Takumi's next question, and yanked Rose's breath back into her lungs. Liene's gaze turned sharp.
"That's enough," Darui's voice boomed from the center. "I trust you've all met your partners... save for one special case..." He paused, mumbling to himself, "Now who was that again?" Then, louder: "We begin now. An all-out duel. Any non-lethal combat is permitted."
Murmurs surged through the crowd.
Claire clasped her hands tight, the warmth of her own skin grounding her. This wasn't a disaster. It wasn't an opportunity. It was just a chance—maybe, just maybe—to be a little better than her worst fears.